


And She For You, I Take It?

by PhiraLovesLoki



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Gutter Flower Captain Swan Secret Santa 2015, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5812654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhiraLovesLoki/pseuds/PhiraLovesLoki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thirty years ago, in the Enchanted Forest, Emma overheard a little fireside conversation between Princes Charming and Charles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And She For You, I Take It?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laschatzi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laschatzi/gifts).



> A very, very, very, very belated Gutter Flower Secret Santa to @laschatzi!! Thanks for being so patient when your original Santa fell through! I hope you enjoy your gift--a story and corresponding gifset! I wrote the fic, and @ive-always-been-a-pirate made the gifset with @optomisticgirl‘s assistance! Woohoo!
> 
> Check out the Tumblr post here for the gifset: http://phiralovesloki.tumblr.com/post/138000777129/and-she-for-you-i-take-it-thirty-years-ago-in

One thing that was weird about time travel (besides _everything)_ was the fact that there was so much waiting involved. It felt weirdly out of place, like everything should be much more rushed and panicked.

Emma had finally fixed the bulk of the problem she had caused: Snow White and Prince Charming had met. A new problem—Snow White getting annihilated by the Evil Queen—had been narrowly avoided. Now she needed to help Snow White and Charming on the Troll Bridge (and figure what to do with her new, still-nameless friend from Regina’s dungeon).

And for now, everyone was just sort of chilling out, like they had all the time in the world or something. Snow White and Red (wow, did Ruby look different!) had gone off to chat and be besties, Killian was trying to set Jane Doe at ease (she seemed a little uncomfortable surrounded by these people who only _sort of_ knew each other), and Charming was sitting across the fire from them, awkwardly glancing between her and Killian like he was expecting something.

How long was she going to have to wait before she could go back to Rumplestiltskin so he could help her and Killian get home?

It _was_ a little weird having Killian around for all this. He seemed to be playing the whole situation off as, “Oops, I _accidentally_ fell into the portal, too!” but she had her suspicions. For all he teased her about being an open book, he was pretty damn easy to read, too. If he’d fallen in by accident, then she was Mickey Mouse.

But it was nice not being alone, and if she had to pick someone to fall into the portal with her, she had to admit, it would have probably been him. Bonding with Mary Margaret during her first tour of the Enchanted Forest had been really wonderful, but at the same time, a lot of the trip had involved Mary Margaret almost begging her to open up and accept her as her mother. Granted, Emma thought a little bitterly, it was way worse having her mother look right through her, like she had tonight. But right now, she didn’t need mother-daughter bonding time. The same was true of Charming: she needed a partner-in-crime right now, not a parent.

Hook was pretty much the only person who fit the bill. And aside from the whole, “I got thrown into the dungeon and then almost saw my mom die, and also hurry up or I might not exist soon” thing, she was … maybe kind of sort of having fun. And it was maybe kind of sort of because of him.

She’d had more fun than she’d expected distracting his past self. Killian had been so obviously jealous, but then again, he’d probably been able to predict just how much fun she’d have distracting him. It had been exciting, having him hit on her without some ulterior motive (like trying to get the advantage so he could screw her over and help Cora) or without it being fraught with meaning if she flirted back. If she were still on the pill, and there hadn’t been a ball to get to (and, well, if Killian hadn’t still been on the ship), she probably would have just fucked him, just to see what she was missing. Now she’d missed her chance. Right?

At least the ball, pre-dungeon, had been a good time. She could see why her parents kept reminiscing about what Emma had just assumed was even worse than prom. And it had been cool to see Hook really let loose and enjoy himself. Had they ever been able to do that together? The one time she’d tried to relax and have a good time with him, he’d been uncharacteristically quiet and humorless. Right—he’d been obsessing over the whole cursed lips thing.

She didn’t know what to feel about that. On the one hand, it had been a stupid plan of Zelena’s, even if it had technically worked in the end. Killian would _never_ have intentionally kissed her while he was cursed like that. She was reluctant to admit it, because she kind of hated admitting she was wrong, but he really _had_ tried to do the right thing, getting Henry to safety so he could tell her what was going on.

But on the other hand, her whole, “Try enchanting the lips of someone I’ll actually kiss” thing was both a little mean and wildly untrue. That had been another reason she’d enjoyed making out with Hook-from-the-past last night—that man could _kiiiiiss._ She still had dreams about kissing him in Neverland: hot, messy dreams that took advantage of her imagination and continued on to their logical conclusion. During the year in New York, she’d still dreamt about it, even though she had no idea it was a memory; every time she’d wake up, she’d spend several minutes trying to fall back asleep before finally giving up and reaching for her vibrator. During those eight months with Walsh, she’d kept trying to recreate that needy, wild dream kiss, with absolutely no luck.

It had just been so ...

This train of thought was very quickly becoming a problem, and there was only one way to resolve it. “I’m going to, uh … you know,” she said weakly, startling both Charming and Killian, who’d clearly been enjoying the silence. Jane Doe had drifted off.

Charming caught her intended meaning—that she needed to pee. “Uh, just try not to wander too far from camp. I’m sure Regina’s knights are still searching for the three of you, especially for Snow White.” Meanwhile, Killian just gave her an odd look.

“Sure, gotcha.” She made sure to walk until she couldn’t see or hear anything from the campsite—a pretty good distance, probably farther than Charming had meant—and then she walked a little farther. She needed as much privacy as she could get. She wasn’t afraid of Regina or her lackeys or whatever; Regina probably hadn’t figured out that Snow was still alive yet, and believing she was victorious, she wouldn’t care so much about a couple of nobodies who’d escaped from the dungeon.

Finding a decent spot, Emma quietly leaned against a tree, hiked up her skirt, and shoved her hand down her panties. Hook probably knew _exactly_ why she’d needed privacy.

This was all his fault anyway: for kissing her like she’d _never_ been kissed before, making her want it _so_ badly, and then when she finally had a chance to get another taste, taking it all away. What would have happened if he’d left the _Jolly Roger_ last night, before she’d arrived with his past self?

She stifled a moan as she pressed even harder on her clit. He probably would have resumed the kiss, and tangled his hand even more into her hair, and then he’d probably have pulled off her clothes with his hook. Damn, that thing was weirdly sexy. And then—then he probably would have moved that stupid mouth of his to her neck. And his hand to her breasts. And his knee between her legs.

If he’d been the man he was now, she’d expect that he might want to _make love_ or something. But the dangerous Captain Hook she’d been seducing all night would probably have just bent her forwards over that little table and fucked the hell out of her.

Oh, god, that would have felt good, though. He was probably huge, definitely bigger than the two fingers she was now pressing inside herself. She pawed at one of her breasts with her free hand and struggled to keep quiet. He’d probably whisper the dirtiest things in her ear about how she was being such a good girl, or how he’d known from the moment she’d walked up to him that she’d feel this good. He’d probably tell her to play with herself while he fucked her. Or, hell, he was adept with that hand—he could do it himself.

But that thought abruptly shifted the fantasy, and she couldn’t control it. Him pleasuring her now, instead of just chasing his own climax. Him flipping her over so he could see her face as he thumbed her clit. Him pulling her into his arms, still buried to the hilt inside her, so he could coax her to wrap her legs around him and then walk her to the bed. Him pulling out unexpectedly and falling to his knees so he could lick and suck and finger her until she was nearly in tears with the strain of being on the edge.

Him climbing on top of her, pushing back in, slowly rocking both of them to an earth-shattering orgasm while he whispered her name, and how beautiful she was, and how much he—

That was enough. Her clit throbbed and her walls clenched, and she grunted as quietly as possible as she came.

She hadn’t meant to fantasize about him so romantically. That wasn’t supposed to be what she wanted.

She cursed under her breath as she cleaned up, wiping her fingers as best she could on some leaves, and then using her sleeve to absorb the sweat from her face and upper chest. Hopefully, Hook wouldn’t be able to tell what she’d been doing.

She was as quiet as possible as she made her way back to camp. She hadn’t been caught masturbating, so she was pretty sure there were no black knights she needed to avoid. But she also didn’t want to scare the shit out of the others.

Just before she reached the camp, though, she could hear a conversation start.

“Is she okay?” Charming asked.

“Aye. I assume she’ll be more comfortable sleeping prone on a blanket than upright against my shoulder.” They were talking about Jane Doe.

Charming chuckled. “I’m inclined to agree.” There was a pause, and Emma was about to step forward, but then Charming spoke again. “Do you think Leia’s all right? She’s been gone for a while.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Killian replied. “Besides, the lass can take care of herself.” She blushed at the unintentional innuendo.

“You’ll forgive me for prying …”

“Out with it, mate.”

“She did seem happy to see you, but after what you said earlier tonight, I admit, I was expecting something a little different when you reunited.”

“Such as?”

“Leaping into your arms? Perhaps kissing you? I would have assumed that you just needed privacy, but you don’t seem keen to be alone together.”

“It’s like I told you—”

“Charles, you told me that her parents disapproved of you, not that your love for her was unrequited.”

Emma felt entirely frozen. “I don’t … ” Hook sighed, and without seeing him, she knew he was running his hand through his hair in frustration. “I told you, it’s complicated, mate. She’s different from any woman I’ve ever known. Part of why—why I feel so strongly for her is that she protects herself so fiercely and loves so rarely.”

“I take it she’s been wronged in the past.”

“More than you might ever imagine.” He said it gently, and without thinking, she raised a hand to her heart. “Until I can show her just how much she means to me, and just how far I’d go to protect her, she might not ever be capable of reciprocating. Of trusting me with her heart.”

“What was it you said?” Charming asked. “That you’d go to the end of the world for her?”

“Or time,” Killian said softly, just loud enough for Emma to hear. But he couldn’t have known she could hear him.

“Or what?” Charming clearly hadn’t heard.

“Yes, right,” Hook replied instead.

“I hope you don’t have to go too far to prove that to her,” Charming said with a chuckle. “Sounds like a pretty rough challenge.”

“I hope that I would rise to the occasion.”

“I don’t know you very well, Charles, but from what I’ve seen, I’m inclined to agree. I hope she can see that someday soon.”

“Aye. Thanks, mate.”

“Yes, well, if you’re right and True Love really does exist, it would be a shame if you never got to share it with her.”

“It would be.”

It was all too much for her. As quietly as she could, she turned right back around.

Once she was sure she had privacy again, she sank to the ground, shaking.

He loved her. Killian loved her. He’d told her _father_ just how strong his feelings for her were, that he considered what he felt for her to be _True Love._

But it wasn’t like she didn’t _know,_ even without overhearing it stated so explicitly _._ He’d seemed pretty bent on falling in love with her, way back in Neverland, like it was some kind of spontaneous decision he’d made. At the time, though, she figured it was just an infatuation, or that getting in good with her would be his way of becoming part of the group.

Neither one of them ever brought up what had happened when he’d first found her in New York— _True Love’s Kiss_ to break the spell on her. She’d rationalized it afterwards: it had been a half-hearted attempt to return her memories without using the potion so that they could then offer it to Henry, and that Hook hadn’t really _meant_ it. That his whole “I hoped you felt as I did” bit had been him trying to cover for the situation.

She’d briefly talked with Regina after the dust had settled the other day, trying to figure out whether or not there was an easy way to fix her lack of magic. When Regina had told her why her magic should have been returned already, she’d also explained the spell Zelena had used in the first place. It required a very specific admission from the person to be cursed, _and_ the admission had to relate to person whom the curse would affect. Regina had been a little embarrassed, trying to explain the situation, but it had been clear enough: Zelena cursed Killian when he admitted his feelings—his _love_ —for Emma, the curse’s target. If he hadn’t loved her, or if he’d loved anyone else but her, there would have been no problem.

And then, of course, she knew, _had_ known from the start: he hadn’t accidentally fallen into the portal with her. He’d chosen to follow, so that he could help her and protect her. Because he would go to the end of the world _or time_ for her.

And what had _she_ been doing? Whining about New York, ignoring his advice, making fun of him. And using him as masturbation material.

He loved her. She couldn’t ignore it anymore. She had to decide how to handle it.

She didn’t … she wasn’t there yet. She wasn’t sure she could really _get_ there.

But there was a reason her fantasy had turned from Hook fucking her to Killian making love to her. There was a reason she enjoyed their partnership so much—a reason she’d felt such a connection to him way back on the beanstalk. There was a reason she was so glad he’d come with her instead of David or Mary Margaret. There was a reason she’d been so amused when he’d been jealous of his past self, a reason she’d been so excited to act as a distraction. There was a reason she liked seeing him enjoy himself at the ball, and there was a reason she’d been so irritated and worried when he’d been unable to enjoy himself in Storybrooke.

There was a reason she’d given up her magic to save his life. There was a reason her family had sent him to talk to her instead of one of her parents or Henry. There was a reason she refused to discuss the kiss from New York with him. There was a reason that kiss in Neverland had haunted her, tortured her, refused to leave her alone.

Maybe she wanted something more than what she had with him. Maybe she wanted to kiss him more, and maybe she even wanted to enjoy some of the consequences, physical and emotional, that would come with that. Maybe she could admit that the thought of going to New York and never seeing him again really sucked. Maybe it was important to her that Henry liked him. Maybe she was a little hopeful that her father would remember this conversation, and when they made it home (because they _would_ make it home), he’d accept Killian.

As she finished calming herself and coming up with a cover story (which she was sure Killian would see right through, because he was Killian and he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking), she started walking back to camp, making just enough noise to ensure any incredibly meaningful conversations would end before she got within earshot.

So what _was_ stopping her? If she wanted to try things out with Killian, shouldn’t she just … try things out with him? What was she afraid of?

When she got to the firepit, Charming was there alone, and her heart clenched. “Where’s—Charles?” she asked, remembering to use his alias.

Charming looked a little confused. “He went off to find you,” he said, as though it were obvious and she were an idiot. “You were gone for a long while. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I just needed some time to myself. Rough night.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“I think I’m going to try to sleep. If Charles isn’t back in, like, ten minutes or so, can you come get me so I can look for him?”

“Very well. Sleep well, Leia.”

As she hunkered down on the freezing ground, wishing that she had a blanket that didn’t suck, she understood why she kept holding back.

Killian was a pirate. He would want to go off on adventures, and sail away from her. He wouldn’t stick around. If she agreed to stay in Storybrooke and give things a shot, how would she know he was willing to do the same? How could he prove it to her without her asking for something she couldn’t really _ask_ of him?

She shook her head at herself. No, that was stupid. She had to get over this whole abandonment thing. He’d been right, when he’d been talking to Charming: she had to accept just how far Killian would go to protect her—and her heart. She had to trust him not to leave.

If they could get back, she would try. And if they couldn’t? She would probably still try.

* * *

When he looked at her that night in front of Granny’s and finally told her the truth—the sacrifice he had willingly made for her—she couldn’t bear to wait any longer. True Love or not, she didn’t care. She wanted him, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

* * *

Emma locked the door behind her and began walking towards the lake, pulling on her gloves.

“You’re sure this is what you want?” David asked.

She nearly jumped out of her skin. She’d hadn’t realized she’d been followed on her back to the house. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said.

“Yeah, I just had to get my gloves and my gun.” She wasn’t sure that guns even worked in the Underworld, but whatever. “I moved all my stuff to the new house when we got back from Camelot.”

“We noticed,” he said sadly, looking back at the house briefly. “That your stuff was gone, I mean.”

“What did you say when you snuck up on me?”

“I just want to make sure this is what you really want,” he said. “That it’s not just the grief talking. I know how much pain you’re in right now—”

“You don’t,” she said bitterly.

“You forget about the sleeping curse.”

“You just had to kiss Mom to wake her up,” she countered. “She wasn’t dead.”

“It didn’t feel that way,” he said firmly. “But we’re getting off topic, Emma. I know it’s hard to accept, but—”

“I accept that he’s dead.” Even _saying_ it hurt, and she instinctively clutched at the ring around her neck. “I just refuse to accept that it’s a permanent state. Why are you trying to talk me out of this?”

“Who’s to say this is going to work, Emma?”

“Why wouldn’t it? It worked for you and Mom!”

He sighed. “That’s different. I know you really love him, but it’s just hard to forget that—”

“Stop.” She stepped backwards, away from him. “You need to let go of this overprotective dad bullshit.”

“Emma!”

“Don’t ‘Emma!’ me! We both know he was your _friend._ You cared—you _care_ about him, Dad! You know he’s a good man!”

“He’s a good friend to me, but that doesn’t mean I can necessarily trust his intentions with you.”

She rolled her eyes. “His intentions were always clear.” She pointed back at the house. “This is the house he chose for us, so we could live here together and have a future together.” She pointed at the ring. “This is the ring he gave me to protect me, to keep me from succumbing to the Darkness. I’m standing here right now, alive, because he refused to let me sacrifice myself for my own family.”

“Emma.”

“You know, what I _really_ don’t get is that thirty years ago, you sat with him and he _told_ you just how much he loved me, and how far he was willing to go to protect me. And you _still_ doubt him.”

“Wait, he told you about that?”

“I heard you talking, the night we thought Mom died, when I was coming back to the campsite. He told you he’d go to the end of the world or time for me, Dad. And he _has._ He took me to Neverland to save Henry. He traded his ship to find me in New York. He went back in time to make sure I was safe and to help me get home. And I know getting to Camelot was a group effort, but he was just as desperate to find me as the rest of you were.”

David was still quiet, and she gripped the ring even more tightly. “Dad, I found someone who has proven time and time again just how much he loves me, and how far he would go to protect me. He loves me— _truly._ Isn’t it a _good_ thing that I’m able to reciprocate? That I feel this way about him in return?”

David stared at the ground for a few moments, and when he looked up, his face was bright red. “Let’s go get my friend.”

She smiled. She felt lighter, a small burden lifted from her, and suddenly the whole scenario felt less bleak. This was going to work. They were going to save Killian.

And besides, after going back in time, how bad could hell be?


End file.
